The Gatherings
by alexandra.helene
Summary: SYOC Open. Several decades into the future, there is an illusion of world peace. Leaders have made an international alliance with each other and physical war has stopped. The Elite, however, have broken off from the government, with the ideal of a "perfect world." The Elite have begun cleaning up cities, ridding the streets of crime. Only a few wonder: Where do the abducted go?
1. -

Hi. I've decided to try a SYOC! I'd like people to submit characters via pm for an original story line that I write. I'll give context and details, as well as a character description format below.

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Several decades into the future, there is an illusion of world peace. Leaders have made an international alliance with each other and physical war has stopped. However, some extremists have taken the "perfect word" ideal too far. A faction of these people have broken off from the government, calling themselves _The Elite._ The Elite have begun cleaning up cities, ridding the streets of homeless, clearing out jails, making life seem better. Only a few understand what they're doing, and they've been paid generously to look the other way. The majority of the population enjoy their lives of luxury. There is no crime, nothing to interrupt their peaceful lives. Only a few wonder:

Where do those who disappeared go?

The Elite have been snatching the lower class, gradually bettering the lives of those up top. The abducted have been placed in concentration camps in great numbers. The Elite calls the camps "Gatherings." However, The Elite are not stupid. They have sectioned off children, young adults, and pregnant women into one large camp. Everyone over the age of 25 and not with child was sent to one of ten camps located all over the country, each in a popular industrial or agricultural area. The conditions are horrible for all who are interned. The young people have been sent to camp Cor Novum, a boot camp to sift through children and young adults to test their usefulness. Those who survive the tests will be rewarded with positions working for The Elite. Failure means death.

Thank you for being interested and I'm excited to work with you! First, there are a few things I'd like to say:

Multiple character entries are accepted and encouraged. However, I can't promise that your character will be put in or survive the entire story.

Along the same lines, if your character is put in, I can't guarantee survival because it takes a certain type of hardiness to survive the plot.

No perfect characters, please. Again, the story is going to be realistic.

I'd like some diversity, but please consider facts like there are statistically more straight people than gay people, and only a small percentage of the population has green eyes. Not every single person is attractive. Not every single person is well-liked, or athletic. Antagonists and aggravators are perfectly acceptable within the camp.

Please review every chapter if your character is in it. I'd like constructive criticism and your opinions. Please tell me: Is your character getting enough time in the story? Would you like a plot twist? etc. Also, if any errors in spelling or grammar are found, please let me know.

The story begins with one base character. More and more are added gradually.

I'm looking for characters interned in the camp, but also guards, instructors, disciplinarians. Submitted characters of The Elite will spice the story up. I may ask for certain types of submissions later on, if anyone's up for it.

Character Creation:

Full Name:

Nicknames: (Either current or names you would like them to develop.)

Age: (Between 6 and 25, please. If your character is one of the aforementioned pregnant women over the age of 25, please note that.)

Sex:

Ethnicity:

Weight/Build:

Height:

Skin tone:

Hair color / preferred style:

Eye color:

Appearance: (Be descriptive, please!)

Three prominent traits: (ex. humble, daring, loud)

Personality: (Elaborate on the above! Please provide reasons, be it the characters past or just how they are. What do they like? What do they dislike? What type of person would they get along with? How would they react under stress? Are they happy? Sad? An optimist? Answering just a few of these questions will give me a good idea of how they will interact with other characters and authority figures.)

Past: (Why were they taken by The Elite? Is there anything they want to hide?)

Family: (List important members, bonds, and if they are dead or alive.)

Strengths: (Personality wise: ex. calm-headed, fearless.)

Weaknesses: (Fatal flaws, like loyalty to a fault, too ambitious, or weaknesses of character, like the tendency to lie or gamble.)

Fears:

Which category would your character do best in - Physical or Intellectual?

Other: (Details such as introvert/extrovert, clumsy/coordinated, is s/he driven? Anxious? Little tidbits that would make them more dynamic.)

I'm very excited about this, so thank you for working with me!


	2. I

Blace tugged her patched coat tighter around her shoulders, finally on her way home. That day hadn't been the best of days. She had woken up to a dark sky and dreary, drizzling rain. Maizie was especially crotchety that morning, practically kicking her out into the rain to "collect their income." Maizie was too old to move around much, so she stayed in their small hovel in Crassus while Blace trudged into Tribus to canvass for coin.

Blace had started her trek off well enough until she heard shrieking coming from one of the cobbled together houses in one of the tent towns. She tucked her head and hurried on her way. It had rattled her. After the shrieking stopped abruptly, she had heard a vehicle driving away. On top of the freaky experience, Blace had had an unsuccessful day in Tribus, taking in less than half of what she made on a daily basis. It was on her way home again that the wind started to pick up.

"Damned weather," she muttered as she plodded downhill towards her hovel. Maizie would be waiting, probably with something warm to make up for her grouchiness. Despite her mood swings, Maizie was a sweet old lady. She was like Blace's grandmother. Maizie was always correcting her, always replying with an even sassier remark when Blace had the audacity to back talk. Maizie had been the one to take Blace in after her incident. Blace lost herself for a few moments, fantasizing about a fresh, warm meal. Those moments cost her.

If she had been paying attention, she would have noticed the quiet sound of footsteps failing to match hers. She would have noticed the man standing at the corner, staring at her hungrily. She would have heard the low rumble of an engine in the distance. However, she was unaware.

Arms locked around Blace in an iron grip just as she was imagining her first bite of bread. She screeched and instinctively and pushed backwards. Her head connected with cartilage and the surge of kinetic energy pushed her assaulter of balance. He quickly overpowered her, though, because he was much stronger than she, a scrawny fifteen-year old. The man on the street corner sauntered over, his gaze raking her up and down.

"Pretty little thing, aren't yeh?" He chuckled.

Blace said nothing, letting the loathing in her eyes do all the talking.

"Feisty too, eh?" The man nodded at his partner. Blace could feel sticky blood seeping into her hair from the broken nose she gave her attacker.

Blace worked up a wad of saliva in her mouth and spat at him. She silently cheered for herself as he wiped it from his cheek with disgust and instantly regretted it. The look in his eyes terrified her. Her captor squeezed her tighter.

The man's eyes glowed dangerously. "You're damned lucky, girly. They asked for you alive, unhurt, undamaged." He spat on the ground.

Blace was scared now. Not just of the two men, but of her entire situation. "Who?" She croaked.

The man smiled crookedly. "Gag her."

Her captor kept one arm tightly around her waist to keep her from escaping. Blace tried bashing his nose again, but he had learned. He kept his face well out the way and endured her kicking and thrashing until he could properly tie her hands together. They were bound tightly against her back and immediately began to chafe. He stuffed a rag in her mouth and picked her up like a rag doll, tossing her into a van waiting around the corner. He roughly tied her ankles together and left her trussed up like a hog on the floor of the van. The doors shut with a loud thump of finality.


	3. II

Ms. Hodge eyed Phineas as he trudged slowly up the center aisle of the classroom to the front of the board. She watched hawkishly as he took the SmartStick and flicked it over the board to write the answer. He really was a bright boy. She didn't know why he tried so hard to come across as average.

Phineas absolutely _hated_ when Ms. Hodge singled him out. The old crow called on him for all the complicated questions and gave all the other students easy questions. He finished writing and was high tailing it back to his seat when-

"Phineas."

"Yes, ma'am?" Phineas didn't even try to make a pleasant face as he turn back around to face his teacher.

"Read it for us, please."

"Yes, ma'am." Phineas returned to the board, on his very last nerve. He spoke through clenched teeth. "In the early 2100s, we were on the brink of a fourth world war. International relations and political ploys threatened to destroy Earth's economy. If not for The Elite, we would have been plunged into a devastating war that could have potentially used up most of the Earth's natural resources. The Elite served as third party ambassadors who supervised alliances and formed relations between countries. They prevented the worst possible outcome and have achieved world peace." Phineas stared Ms. Hodge down, daring her to to ask him for more.

"Thank you, Phineas."

"Man, Phin, she really dug you hard this time." Phineas' friend, Jodie bopped alongside him in the crowded hall. Jodie was a short, plump girl with ashy blonde hair and a round face. She was one of Phineas' only friends.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I hate history." Phineas created a path for them in the sea of student dressed in white. At 6'6, he towered over most students his age. Jodie fell into step behind him as he pushed his way towards math.

Phineas and Jodie lived in Avarus, just outside of Potens and went to school at Alexandra Orlov Secondary School. The grand city of Opulenti was divided into three rings around the center. Avarus was the innermost ring, fully encircling Potens. Potens was where The Elite governor and his politicians lived. Almost no one went in there. Avarus was where the upper class lived, like Phineas and Jodie. It was also the largest ring of the city. Surrounding Avarus was Tribus, where the working class and small business owners lived. The outer ring of the city was called Crassus. No one but the worst of the worst lived there. Prisoners, vagrants, whores, dealers; all of them escaped the law in Crassus.

At last, Phineas and Jodie arrived at their math class. Math was Phineas's favorite subject. Numbers and graphs made sense to him. Phineas liked it when everything clicked and made sense. Alas, he had already taught that day's lesson to himself.

God, he hated school. It was all pointless and boring to him. Why make him learn things that didn't interest him? Phineas didn't just dislike the needlessness of school, he hated the whole aura. The pristine marble building felt like a prison. The perfectly manicured lawn felt like a farce. All the students in their perfectly pressed, clean, white uniforms that were custom fit. He couldn't stand the lack of freedom. He wasn't even given the option to pick his own classes. They were chosen for him based on an aptitude test every student took at the end of each year. They were placed in what they were good at, not what they were interested in.

Math flew by and soon Phineas and Jodie were walking home.

"There've been more missing person reports from Crassus coming in."

Phineas rolled his eyes, "More snooping through your mother's reports, Jo?"

Jodie shrugged. "Only the interesting ones."

"I would think _every_ report that came to Opulenti's chief of police would be interesting."

"You'd be surprised. Well, here's my stop. See you tomorrow, Phin." Jodie broke off and headed up the walkway to her house. Phineas liked Jodie's house. It was so different from his own. Jodie's house resembled a hobbit hole from one of the classics, _Lord of the Rings_. The series had since been heavily antiquated, but Phineas liked the sense of timelessness. It was so different from his own dwelling: a sweeping, upright, victorian house. His house was white, clean, cold and tidy compared to Jodie's, which was cozy and warm and went down instead of up. Phineas sighed, his long legs carrying him into his own walkway in minutes.

Phineas' mother greeted him at the door, something she'd never done before. Phineas' mother was a thin, clean cut woman who never had a stray hair out of place. Today, her makeup was uneven and her clothes didn't match the season. He knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Welcome home, Darling. We have guests tonight."


	4. III

They had been driving for several hours and three more bodies had joined Blace at odd intervals, making the the van very quite stuffy. She couldn't gauge how long they'd been on the move, but she knew she had passed a few hours in fitful sleep. Blace had wiggled her way into a corner of the van was sitting with her back wedged in between the walls. The windows were blacked out, the van dark, but she could hear grunting and shuffling from the other people in there with her, and even faint sniffles.

Blace had spent the better part of the last half hour working the gag out of her mouth, previously trying to free her hands to no avail.

Tongue sore and mouth dry, she finally managed to croak, "Hello..?"

The van jerked to a stop. Blace could hear the front doors open and slam closed. Footsteps. The back doors were opened. After hours of mostly darkness, the light was blinding. It took Blace several seconds to get her bearings and by then, she was roughly being pulled out of the truck.

"No gag, eh?" said a voice in front of her and then her head snapped to the side, skin stinging. She'd been slapped for removing her gag.

Blace finally blinked away the brightness of the light and was greeted with the sight of her captors. The men who had taken her hours earlier. The one who slapped her was the slick, oily one who had spoken to her before she was taken. He freed Blace's hands for a few glorious seconds before cinching their wrists tightly in front of her.

"Where are we?" a boy spoke immediately after his gag was removed. He was being held by a large, muscular man with a swollen nose.

The oily man punched him in the stomach. "No questions," he growled.

The boy double over, panting. A small whimper came from Blace's left.

A little boy who looked to be no more than four was sniffling and staring at the dangerous man. Tears streaked his dirty face and he was latched furiously to the hand of a little girl. The girl had her other hand clamped over his mouth, eyes wide in fear.

"She knows how it goes." The man jerked his head at the children. "No questions, no noise. Do exactly as we say and you won't be hurt. Now march."

The larger man roughly pushed the boy away and he fell into the line. He was in front of Blace. The toddler came next, and the little girl brought up the rear.

They were in the country, that was for sure. Blace couldn't see any buildings or signs of human life except for a large, grey compound looming in the distance. She assumed that's where they were going. The land was a mass of dry, rolling hills and scrubby plants. It was hot and Blace felt sticky, uncomfortable, and hungry; she could feel her face swelling from the blow of her assaulter. Questions danced on the tip of her tongue and she had to swallow to keep them from pouring out.

The small group had been walking for over an hour before anyone said anything.

"Think it's time to give the run down, Saf?" It was the oily man.

The bigger man, Saf, only grunted.

"A'ight, rats, here's the deal. You don't exist anymore. You have been taken from places no one knows. Where no one will remember. Because you don't matter. No one will come looking for you. You are _dead._ "

The little girl gasped and Blace turned around. She saw the tear tracks on her petite face and registered how terrifying this must be for both her and the little one. That's all she got before she was driven to the ground via a boot to the side.

"Keep your eyes up front, lassy," the oily man sneered.

"They're supposed to arrive unharmed, Lars." Saf said gruffly as Blace stumbled to her feet. Her ribs throbbed and she could feel a deep bruise forming.

"Doesn't mean we can't rough 'em up a bit, eh?" Lars replied with a sadistic chuckle. "Keep walking, rats."

Blace used the twenty minutes it took the group to walk from where they were to the compound to glean as much information she could _without_ turning her head and getting kicked again. That hadn't been fun. She didn't know where they were. She racked her brain for anything she could remember. The sun was high in the sky; it was at least eight in the morning, maybe nine. That means they had spent more time in the van than Blace had originally thought. She had been jumped at around six in the evening and she _had_ felt the van stop a few times.

The boy walking in front of her was in his late teens and at least a head taller than her. He had a deep tan and broad shoulders and walked with a swagger.

Blace could hear the little boy behind her, his footsteps much quicker than her own. They were light and uneven. The poor little one was probably drained. Blace was exhausted herself. Her face and side were sore from the abuse, her wrists and ankles blistered from the rope. She had spent the previous day working and hadn't eaten since early the morning morning before. Blace wanted to cry.

 _No,_ she told herself, _suck it up, you asshole. Those little ones back there have it worse than you._

She was going to get away. Not yet, but soon. They were already too close to their destination and Lars and Saf were watching them like hawks. Finally, they made it to the compound.


	5. IV

Phineas was seated at the table in the dining room, listening to his parent's forced conversation around the two officials eating with them. He picked at his food, pretending to be interested, but really thinking of all the reasons the suits could be here. His parents could be in trouble with the law? No, his father was one of the leading politicians in favor of The Elite. He basically did whatever they told him. And his mom didn't do much other than run the social events for The Elite. Maybe he had done something wrong? No, Phineas knew his permanent record was spotless and he held a 4.86 GPA. Did his family have money problems he didn't know about? Maybe this was about Jodie. After all, he was one of her only frie-

A suit cleared his throat. He was a hulking man in a perfectly tailored business suit with skin so dark it was almost blue. "Mr. and Mrs. Stark, we've come to visit you today about your son."

Phineas' heartbeat began to speed up. So it _was_ about him. Was he in trouble?

"Your son has shown incredibly talent, physically and mentally. He is at the top of all of his classes and a star athlete on the field."

Phineas knew all of this and was irritated that the suit was talking about him as if he weren't there.

"My partner and I would like to speak with him alone, if you please," the man nodded to his partner, a woman who looked just a buff as her counterpart. She was thin lipped and severely pale, with a mass of red hair pulled into a sleek bun.

Phineas' parents nodded and tiptoed out of the room, shooting him wary glances.

"Mr. Phineas Stark," the dark man began,taking off his glasses. His eyes were a startling tawny color that contrasted with his dark skin. "My name is Brutus Thorne. This is my partner, Amanda Thorne."

Phineas wasn't sure if Mr. Thorne meant partner as in business partner or partner as in a significant other. Probably both, judging by their shared last names.

"We are here today to discuss a matter of utmost importance with you."

"What is said in this room will stay in this room. Understood?" Ms. Thorne interjected flatly.

Phineas nodded, "Of course."

Brutus Thorne began again, "You have been evaluated by our top teams in the Elite over the course of this year. The results were incredible. Top in math, science, and logistics. Above college level reading and comprehension. IQ of 184. Physically, you have topped all of your classmates."

Phineas wasn't sure why they were telling him these things. He already knew all of it. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"We are here to offer you a deal." Phineas forced himself not to be intimidated by the woman speaking. She had ignored his question. The way Amanda Thorne looked at him made Phineas wonder whether the superstition about redheads being soulless was true.

"A deal?"

"As we speak, the Elite are massing an army. As you know, the Elite have brought about world peace. However, tensions are rising, especially in New Japan and Russia. We must be sure that, if needed, we can keep the peace and ensure the safety of the world's population."

"You want me to join this army." Phineas phrased his question like a statement.

"The army is being assembled from trained individuals who have been liberated from their lives of poverty and given the chance at a new life," Amanda continued, without missing a beat, "they are interned at Cor Novum in the foothills southwest of Opulenti. Of course, some of them won't see it that way. They believe they have been taken from lives better than the one we are giving them. They may try to... rebel."

"That's where you will come in." Brutus took over. "You will become one of them. You will live with them, eat with them, and sleep with them. You will get to know them and if you catch wind of _any_ form of rebellion, you will report it to us and we will have the problem eliminated."

"And what if I say no?"

Brutus sighed. "Then we will leave you here and you will be unharmed. But, your house will bugged and you will be under constant surveillance in the case that you might tell someone about this."

Phineas pondered for a second. "What's in it for me?"

"Besides high military honors and the knowledge that you've served you government and helped protect the well being of the world.. a cash reward. 650,000 frustra for your efforts."

650,000 frustra. Phineas could hardly wrap his head around the amount. With that amount of money, he would be set for life. Heck, his parents and Jodie would be set too. But, with that amount of money, there would have to be something more they wanted of him.

"What's the catch?"

"Pain." Ms. Thorne answered bluntly. "Cor Novum is run based on a computerized reward system. On your first day, you will be permanently marked and put into the system. That will be painful. Level one is incredibly difficult. Once you earn your way past level one, you progress to level two, which is slightly less difficult, but still demanding. With each level you will earn more and more benefits. However, you will not be afforded any special treatment because your mission will be to infiltrate, not become an outcast."

"Will you give me a minute to think?"

"Take all the time you need."


	6. V

Blace and her fellow prisoners were jostled into a loose line in front of the hulking compound. There were easily more than a fifty people all shuffling nervously in front of them. Even as these thoughts raced through Blace's mind, more people fell into line behind her group. Random shrieks and yells interrupted the white noise of the environment. Surges of people tried to break through the guards surrounding the line, leaving Blace with a growing feeling of unease.

The air outdoors was permeated with a strange odor, like chicken, almost. It made Blace's stomach roil, not because she was hungry to the point of feeling faint, but because it smelled _wrong._ Usually food was spiced and smelled pleasant, but this just smelled like cooking flesh. It was laced with a charred acidity.

The boy in front of her turned around and started talking, but Blace only caught a few words. He was caucasian and had a mass of dark curls spilling onto his forehead and dark brown eyes. High cheekbones and a strong jaw made someone who was very nice to look at.

"Sorry, what?"

"Do you think they're okay?" He nodded to the children huddled behind Blace. Blace saw the tearful little ones and cursed herself for thinking only of herself. She took a knee so she could speak at eye level.

"Hey guys," she felt awkward and slow. Blace almost never interacted with children, but always felt protective of them. She was way out of her comfort zone. "Everything's going to be ok, yeah?" She didn't even know these kids and they didn't know her. Why would they even listen to her? "I'm Blace."

The little girl spoke first. "How do you know? That we're going to be okay." She looked like she was seven or eight, judging by her face, but she was taller than the average second grader. The kid was thin, but wiry and had eyes much too large for her face. She had cocoa colored skin and halo of tight curls surrounding her face.

"We're going to stick together." the boy knelt beside her, "My name is Hunter and it's going to be okay because we will stick together."

"I'm Aisha," the little girl said, still wary.

"Um, my name's Bradley." The small boy finally spoke, shyly. His fingers were knotted in his grubby shirt. Bradley looked like a little angel: he had not yet lost his layer of baby rolls, but he was a sturdy kid. His cheeks were rosy, although stained by tears and his round blue eyes were framed by dark blonde lashes. He had short blonde hair that was mussed and untidy.

"Alright, break it up." A guard came over and the group shuffled quickly into the line that was now moving forward before the guard could get physical. Saf and Lars had disappeared.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air and a scuffle disrupted the front of the line. Blace was now only about fifty people away from the front. Guards moved in and the disorder was shut down quickly. As Blace got closer, the cooked meat smell grew stronger. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

They were being branded.

Blace was ten people from the front when she got a look of what was happening. One person was standing, surrounded by guards. A prisoner would be shoved in front of her and she'd press a button on a device she was holding. The guard forced the prisoner to stick their arms out, palm up, wrists still bound. The woman swabbed the skin and pressed the device into the tender inner wrist and burn something into the prisoner's 's how it went.

 _Beep, swab, hiss. Beep, swab, hiss. Beep, swab, hiss._

Hunter went with a pained grunt. Blace was sure it hurt more than he let show. She could see the tension in his shoulders.

Then it was Blace's turn.

She made a break for it. She elbowed the nearest guard and nearly managed to tear away from the group before she was pulled back. She fought tooth and claw, landing a solid kick in the groin before she was smashed in the temple with the butt of a gun. Woozy, she was forced back in line.

 _Beep._

"It's going to be okay." She managed to turn and croak unconvincingly to Aisha and Bradley before a guard shoved her forward and forced her arms out.

 _Swab._

Blace was terrified of the pain. Of the scar.

 _Hiss._

It was near agony- a white hot epicenter of pain on her wrist. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, determined not to scare the children behind her further. Her eyes stung and she tasted copper. She was roughly shoved through the iron doors behind the branding station, clutching her forearm.


	7. VI

Phineas' mind was reeling. 650,000 frustra. _Damn_. He needed to think. From what he'd gathered, what the agents were asking of him was a massive undertaking. But for 650,000 frustra? _Calm down, Phineas. Think cost/benefit._ With that kind of money, he would never have to worry about money again. In fact, he would be rolling in it. He could start his own business and invest money into his company. He could fund charities. He could pay completely for his parents' retirement and give Jodie a huge boost in her income. He could do almost anything. In the current economy, each frustra was worth about fifteen old American dollars (a currency that had since lost popularity, but was still in use in remote parts of the Midwest). Frustras were the unified international currency and therefore carried more value than any other type of money used in a specific area. However, Amanda had said the operation would be painful. Phineas could take pain. How many times had he worked himself to the breaking point during football season? Benching until he nearly dropped the bar onto his neck? Sprinting until he ate the grass? Phineas could take pain. Physical and psychological. _Thanks, coach._ But would Phineas really agree to this? Agree to have his entire life uprooted for the sake of money? To be permanently marked, to be taken away from his family and friends? He wouldn't see his parents until the ordeal was over, not to mention Jodie. But 650,000 frustras. _650,000 freaking frustras._ With that money, he could make up for lost time by treating his parents and Jodie to exotic vacations and showering them with gifts. With that money, he could practically buy happiness.

"I'll do it."


	8. VII

Blace was in a small cubicle sort of room. She had been ushered through a wide hallway with several other people of varying ages and appearances, although they all looked rather young. A guard had shoved her through a doorway and a metal door slid down with a hiss behind her.

"Hey!" Blace croaked, banging half-heartedly on the cold door. She cradled her blistered arm to her stomach and slumped onto a wall. Finally, she broke down.

She sobbed. Great shuddering breaths wracked her body and tears flowed down her chin and neck and into her hair. She cried because her wrist hurt. Because her head hurt. Because there was a black eye forming and because her ribs hurt. She cried because she was hungry and thirsty and tired. She cried for herself and the injustice of being taken from her life for no reason other than she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She cried for Maizie, because she missed her grandmother, caretaker, and friend and the fact the she might never see the old woman again and the fact that the lasts words they'd traded were in an argument. She cried for the children and fellow prisonmates and the lives they lost. She cried.

Finally, the tears subsided and Blace found herself balled into the corner of the small room. She felt cleansed. The crying had been an outlet for her emotions and reality felt a little clearer. A small burden had been lifted. She slowly unravelled herself and took a look around.

The room was maybe 5x5 feet in a perfect square. The ceiling was high, at about twelve feet and alight with a fluorescent glow that came from nowhere. The room was solid concrete. Well, Blace thought it was solid concrete, but upon her inspection, it was full of panels of all shapes and sizes that blended together almost seamlessly. On the wall opposite the door was a floor length mirror.

Blace stood before the mirror. A scrawny girl stared back at her. Blace hardly recognized her face. Dirty olive skin, tear streaked with one side of her face turning into a sunset of bruises. Round, mottled grey eyes stared at her, judging her. _How could you have let yourself get into this situation,_ they said, _how could you do this to yourself?_ A freckled nose and cheeks were there too; her nose was smaller than she remembered and her cheeks fuller. Must've been Maizie's cuisine. Blace had to smile at that, which brought her to her lips. Softer and fuller than she'd expected. Kind of heart shaped. Not that impressive. Those lips wanted to scream, _why me?_ Ratty dark brown hair fell in tangles around her face. It had changed. Her mane had been a tawny brown when she was younger. Back when she cared about things like hair. Her younger self would have had a fit at its length and general state. Her eyebrows had changed too. Thick and somewhat overgrown, they had darkened to match her hair. _Geez, when did I change so much?_

Blace was still short, though. That hadn't changed. Last time she'd measured herself, she had been five feet two inches, but she was sure she'd grown since then. Gangly arms and legs attached to her body. Her legs felt too long and her torso too short. How had she managed to be so short with legs of that length?

Blace sighed and lifted her grubby shirt to inspect her ribs. Sure enough, a beautifully colored bruise was blooming like a flower on her side, spreading out over a good chunk of her ribs and some of her back. Blace inspected her figure. Small waist, small bust. Medium hips and shoulders. Overall unimpressive. Blace was just a plain looking person. _Well, what can I expect?_ Blace rolled her shirt back down and finally looked at her wrist, a sight she'd been trying to avoid.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as she'd expected. The heat of the laser thing they'd use to burn her must've cauterized the wound. However the skin around the burn didn't look so good. It was an angry red and stinging quite badly. _Oh well,_ Blace thought, _I'll deal._

Suddenly, a face appeared in the mirror. Blace scrambled backwards as a generically attractive woman's head filled the space where Blace's reflection had been. She opened her mouth and spoke.

"Please Disrobe." The woman's voice was pleasant and her eyes stared blankly into space. Blace assumed she was some sort of automated command system. Her shoulders faded into nothing and Blace found it surreal that the woman was _in_ the mirror. It seemed that the mirror had some sort of screen layered under it.

"What? No." Blace hugged herself, holding her clothes."

"Please Disrobe," the voice repeated.

"I said no, lady."

"If you do not disrobe within the allotted amount of time, you will be disrobed by force."

Blace didn't want more force, so she slipped off her patchy coat (a gift from Maizie), yanked off her shirt and jeans, and slid out of her crappy looking shoes. She stood facing the mirror in just her panties. Yep, definitely unimpressive.

"Please disrobe. If you do not disrobe within the allotted amount of time, you will be disrobed by force."

"Geez, lady, you want all my clothes? Fine. Here."

"Please place your clothes in the proper compartment."

"What compartments? I don't see any-" Blace was cut off by a hiss as a drawer slid out of the wall. "Well, fine." Blace grumbled, tossing her shoes and clothes into the drawer. She folded Maizie's coat very nicely and set it on top. The drawer slide back into the wall.

"Hey, wait! That's my stuff! You can't just take it away like that!" Blace yelled indignantly at the lady in the mirror. She did not respond.

Without warning, Blace was blasted with water on all sides. The panels on the walls had slide back to reveal jet showerheads that forcefully sprayed Blace with cold water. The droplets were like tiny needles poking away at her skin. It was painful. Abruptly, the water turned scalding hot and sprayed her in waves. Layers of dirt and grime flowed into a drain that had appeared in the middle of the room. The water stopped and Blace was left shivering and slightly charred from the experience.

"Please rub the solution over your entire person."

"What solu-" A panel hissed and out slid a tray. "Why do I even ask?"

The tray was holding a rather large pot of greyish beige looking goop. It was thick and kind of grainy. "What is it?"

"Please rub the solution over your entire person."

Yeah, yeah, I got it." Blace spread the goop over her skin. She had to admit, it was kind of nice. It was so thick that it acted as insulation and she finally stopped shivering. Then it started to sting. At first, Blace didn't mind, but as it grew more painful, she started to panic. Water shot at her from the ceiling, effectively taking off the painful goo. It left her skin raw and tingling, but strangely smooth and soft.

"Please coat your hair in the solution." Blace heard the hiss of a panel and obeyed, taking an equally thick substance out of its pot and thoroughly rubbed it through her hair. She even put it in her eyebrows and eyelashes for good measure. If doing this meant they were letting her keep her hair, then she would go all the way. Her hair used to be her pride and joy. _I guess I'm still a little vain._

Water jetted at her from above, but this time Blace was expecting it. The water wasn't an extreme temperature this time and almost felt a little.. nice? She ran her hands through her hair and worked out the worst of the snarls. When the water shut off, wafts of warm air replaced it. Blace was dry in no time.

"Please Brush your hair." Blace took the offered brush and yanked it through her hair. It was even longer when it wasn't bunched into tangles. It went past the small of her back, stopping just short of her bottom. There was a hair tie wrapped around the handle of the brush, so Blace tied up her hair with a shrug.

"Please do not move. You are being scanned."

"What does that mean?"

"Please do not move. You are being scanned."

"Alright, alright, I heard you the first time. Geez, lady."

The room went dark except for the mirror in front of Blace, softly glowing with the lady's digital features. Grids of green light appeared and washed over Blace from every angle. The lady in the mirror was replaced with a replica of Blace. Information appeared next to her body as it was catalogued.

Subject 167

Height: 5'3.5 (So she _had_ grown!)

Weight: 104lbs. (Not bad, considering the limited food of Blace's residence.)

BMI: 18.1

Calories: 2350

All of this was followed by a physical description that appeared as if it were being typed in. The lights flicked back on and Blace heard the telltale hiss of a panel: a drawer had slid open. Blace pulled out a jumpsuit that was a faded, prussian blue color. Blace only knew the specific name of the color because it matched the color of Maizie's coat and Maizie was a stickler for calling things by their proper color. The fond memory of Maizie brought a smile to Blace's lips. She touched her hair, which Maizie had always called "virgin espresso." Blace didn't know what "espresso" was but she liked the sound of it.

Under the jumpsuit she found a pair of underwear and some sturdy work boots with socks. She pulled on her clothes and laced up her boots. Everything fit perfectly, which struck her as odd. But then again, they _did_ scan her.

"Thank you for participating."

"Participating?" Blace scoffed,"you're crazy if you think I was 'participating, lady.'"

The woman did not answer and instead, the mirror slid up to reveal a doorway. Sunlight flooded the small room, so different and warm compared to the harsh fluorescent lights from before.

Blace stepped outside.


	9. VIII

Phineas was _very_ uncomfortable. He had been in the stinkin' van for _hours_ with his hands tied behind him listening to the sniffles of those around him. His muscles were cramping and he was quite thirsty. _Suck it up, Buttercup,_ Phineas heard the voice of his football coach yelling at him.

Amanda and Brutus had left him with a warning: Don't ask questions. Speak only when you're told to. Do exactly as they say.


	10. IX

Well this was fun. Blace was standing in the open air in a place she couldn't see because the sun had the audacity to shine in her eyes. Rude.

Once her vision cleared, she realized that the building she had been through was actually the inside of a huge wall surrounding a large dirt area. The whole thing was probably four or five acres across, and there was construction taking place at the end farthest away from Blace. To her left were oblong tubes. They were hard to describe: they looked sort of like trailers but distinctly rectangular and much longer. The surface looked almost metal. It was a dark grey and semi matte. Blace couldn't even take a guess at what they were used for. They were just in sitting in a long row, butts only feet away from the enclosure's walls. To her left she saw what looked like a giant obstacle course with different stations set up along the sides. Barbed wire and mud, bars dropping over water, variations of climbing walls were just a few of the things Blace could pick out. In front of her, people were trickling into a cleared area surrounding a small mound.

"Alright, listen here." A woman pushed her way through the crowds and stood on the mound. She was a buff latina with long hair braided tightly back from her face. Muscles bulged in her arms and shoulders and Blace could bet she was even stronger than she looked.

"My name is Lieutenant Razo and I am your new best friend. You answer to me. Any questions? Don't ask 'em. Gotta take a piss? The answer is no. You want a break? Your sissy ass is going to have to earn it. Here at Cor Novum, we don't take sissies. You _earn_ everything you have. And right now, you have nothing. This is your new life, people, a chance for a better one. Who you were? They don't exist anymore. It's who you will become that is important.

"Now. This is the way things work here: you all are on level zilch. Level zero is where you have the clothes on your back, nothing else. Two meals a day, eight clicks of sleep, showers once a month. _Lo tengo?_ Good. That's the only time I'm gonna say it. Every day you will wake up, scan your wrists and memorize your schedule. You will follow that schedule down to the second. If you do not know your schedule, you will be punished. You will earn your way to level one, then level two, and so on. Those who fail will be removed. Is that clear?"

There was a ripple of silent nods throughout the crowd. Blace was pushed into the middle as more people flowed out of the walls behind her.

"You will be addressed by your assigned numbers. Learn to respond. They are your new identity until you earn a name." Lieutenant Razo paused, "Today you will be assigned your beds and you will receive one meal. You will learn how to use the scanner. Tomorrow, your new life begins."

Well that was all well and good, but what the heck were clicks? As Blace was thinking, a low, loud clicking noise resonated through the compound. Then another, then another. Come to think of it, Blace had heard these faint echoes as she was coming in. She had thought nothing of it but now… she'd heard the first echo about three hours ago when they were first walking into the compound. It was more like a bunch of clicking noises in rapid succession. Then later on, just one click. A little after that, two cli-

Oh. They were keeping track of time. Blace felt stupid for not realizing it sooner: clicks were hours. She supposed the time was kept like those big clocks they had in fancier schmancier cities like Opulenti. Well that seemed simple enough. One click meant one o'clock, two clicks meant two o'clock, and so on.

Blace felt something on her leg and was about ready to scream and kick it off when she realized it was Bradley. The little boy was holding onto the fabric of her jumpsuit pant leg, looking worriedly up at Lieutenant Razo and sucking his thumb. Blace heard his little tummy grumble.

The crowd was now packed tight enough that Blace couldn't see over the heads of the other people there. Everyone around her looked young. Most were around her age, but some were even younger. There were scared looking kids that looked like Bradley's age, and some who looked like they hadn't even gotten out of elementary school yet. Blace spotted Hunter, who had found Aisha and was keeping her closeby. The throng of people began to stir and Blace pushed her way towards Hunter with Bradley close behind.

Black interrupted the sea of blue jumpsuits as guards began to move through the people. It went like this: a triad of guards would circle around a group of no more than ten or so people. They'd pass a cord to each other and rope off sections of people, separating them from the crowd. Together, the three guards would herd and wrestle the group of people to one of the tubes Blace had seen earlier, bashing hands, torsos, and heads that fought their way out of the rope enclosure.

Inevitably, the guards reached Blace, Hunter, and their wards. The four of them were packed into a smaller group of people, maybe only six or seven and yanked along to one of the tubes closer to the left, where Blace had entered the outdoor complex.

After stepping on many toes and grunting a lot, the guards released them into the tube and slammed the door shut.

"Hey, wait!" Blace yelled, banging once on the door with her fist. With a heavy sigh, Blace turned back around to find everyone staring at her.


End file.
